


Do As I Say Not As I Do

by Twisted_Barbie



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Barbie/pseuds/Twisted_Barbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon divergence/missing scene for series two episode four </p><p>The new regime is a hair’s breadth from utter ruin and with Ivan’s uncharacteristic weakness, Mitchell fears for his vampire brethren. Caught between a rock and a hard place Mitchell must decide whether to let Ivan drink or run the risk of Ivan leaving and losing all credibility with his AA meetings. </p><p>The choice is simple, after all a King couldn’t build his castle on a mountain of lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do As I Say Not As I Do

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m late to the party after just discovering Britchell and I’m working my way through the box sets and Ivan/Mitchell caught my attention and since I could find no work regarding this pairing I thought I’d give it a shot while trying my hand at a new writing style.

Mitchell grabbed the funeral home keys from the table and turned regarding the elder vampire with a look of morbid intrigue. “Where are you going with this?” He asked openly, worried by the Englishman’s babbling. 

“I can’t do it,” Ivan replied, turning from him and remaining by the door. “I thought I could, I wanted to, I swear but erm...” he paused before gathering his courage to eye his friend and leader. “I’ve never gone this long without blood.” 

“Oh come on it’s only been a few days,” Mitchell scoffed, affronted. 

“Yeah after a hundred and ninety five fucking years!” Ivan raged with his eyes averted and he kicked the door in frustration. 

“Do you know how many people are in that room because of you?” Mitchell asked angrily. “If you quit...”

“I’m not gonna quit!” Ivan interrupted just as ill-tempered, returning his glare. 

“So what are you saying?”

“I may be many things, Mitchell but I am a man of my word. I will stand in that room and talk about how brave and strong we all are; how this is a fight we can win. I can do that for as long as you need me to but I...I cannot do it...dry.” Ivan struggled to find the words and ignored the sting of tears in his dark eyes by admitting his cowardice. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do?” Mitchell asked, equally as emotional.

Ivan sighed and turned his head to face his friend once more. “I could say the same to you.” 

Mitchell merely gaped at the taller vampire trapped between a rock and a hard place. The coven was hanging on by a thread as they both well knew and now Ivan’s admission was not so much a choice but a sacrifice. 

“I cannot let you drink; I will not rebuild this empire on lies and hypocrisy.” Ivan nodded solemnly and reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, good luck running your empire without me.” Ivan pushed open the door while Mitchell stared aghast and ran his fingers through his dark curls.

“Wait!” He called with his Irish accent stronger in anger. Ivan paused with his back to him standing on the threshold. 

“There is nothing left to say,” Ivan spoke civilly. “We are apex predators’, Mitchell, not dancing bears.”

“There must be some way,” Mitchell stressed. 

“Do as I say not as I do?” Ivan offered closing the door and turning to face him once more. “I thought I was stronger but I’m not, their faces Mitchell, the memories, I cannot tolerate another second of it. What you ask of me, of us all is simply cruel.” 

“We do not need blood to survive.” 

“Human’s do not need meat to survive but they butcher animals in their thousands daily because they like the taste. Why must we be punished because we find them appetizing?” 

“Have you listened to yourself?” Mitchell asked with a shake of his head. “You sound as mad as Herrick.” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” Ivan replied with a mock pout. “Herrick was a megalomaniac while I am simply a realist, the Mitchell I knew would understand.”

“It is not about whether I understand or not, it’s about us, our kind and our selfish hedonist ways. We can assimilate into society as I have proven...”

“Shacking up with a ghost and a werewolf is hardly assimilating into modern society.” Ivan retorted whilst folding his arms standoffishly. 

“Fine!” Mitchell snapped and shoved the keys into his pocket before shrugging off his leather coat and tossing it onto the chair behind the table. 

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked with his eyes widened in confusion, as Mitchell divested himself of his plaid shirt and stood before him in a grey vest, black skinny jeans and boots. 

“You want blood?” Mitchell asked nastily having worked himself up. He turned towards his desk once more and retrieved the sword shaped letter-opener and turned back to the Old One. “Then you shall have blood,” he stated and pressed the letter-opener against his left forearm beneath his green fingerless mittens and slit downwards opening up the vein and drops the letter-opener to the floor. 

“Mitchell,” Ivan said in warning before his eyes turned jet black. 

“Drink,” Mitchell encourages and holds his bleeding arm out towards Ivan. He watches the thick blood run down his pale arm in the dim glow of the table lamp, mesmerised. A human would have bled copiously by now but his blood was thicker having congealed by remaining still in his disused veins. 

Before a drop can spill onto the blue carpet Ivan is before him taking hold of his left wrist reverently while a cool tongue licked up the flowing blood. Fangs pierce his severed vein as Ivan latches onto his arm and suckles the self-inflicted wound forcing blood to circulate through his veins once more. 

Mitchell stumbles back against the table with Ivan following reluctant to part with his supply and he watches the Old One drink from him, savouring every drop. His own eyes shift to jet black and he throws his head back groaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure and feels his canines elongate and his jeans tighten. 

“Still aroused by a feed?” Ivan asks, with eyes as black as night and bloodied fangs. His hand presses between Mitchell’s legs and finds the evidence of his desire and he squeezes the prominent bulge causing Mitchell to lurch forward and sink his fangs into the exposed column of his throat. Ivan’s chuckle is rich, deep and dark as Mitchell behaves like a fledgling feeding and thrusting against him shamelessly. He tears at the belt around Mitchell’s waist making use of his inhuman strength and unbuttons and unzips his jeans before grabbing the back of Mitchell’s raven curls and pulling him away from his throat. 

Mitchell is feral as he struggles in Ivan’s grip but the elder keeps him trapped by the hand in his hair while he uses his other to sweep the books, paper and lamp from the loaded desk. “Remove your jeans,” Ivan orders and releases his captive and watches as Mitchell kicks off his boots and pushes his black jeans down and off. 

Taking the opportunity while Ivan is distracted, Mitchell leaps at Ivan again sinking his fangs into the vampire’s neck as Ivan releases a startled gasp and promptly reacts by lifting him and taking two steps forward before seating him on the table. Ivan pulls Mitchell from his neck like before and stares into the soulless eyes that mirrored his own and tuts disapprovingly at Mitchell’s bloody mouth. He strikes then, forcing his lips against Mitchell’s, feeling the younger man’s stubble against his skin before sinking his fangs into Mitchell’s pink bloodless lower lip. Mitchell thrashes against him with his hands clenching and unclenching around the lapels of his suit jacket and he brings his right hand up to caress his cheek and soothes him as he lies Mitchell down onto his back before releasing his lip. 

It was almost too easy to get the king vampire onto his back but Ivan was a man of simple pleasures and chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth as he gathered Mitchell's blood on his fingertips. Mitchell watched him while panting heavily lost in the throes of bloodlust and he widened his legs as Ivan stepped between them and moved his hand to his thigh and playfully walked his fingers up his inner thigh before ghosting over his hole. 

The first breach of Ivan’s fingers had Mitchell biting his hand through his woollen mittens as he hadn’t partaken in such pleasures for some time. He welcomed the pain as it lessened his burden distracting him from an unwanted kingship and all that it entailed. The feeling of burning from being stretched open was almost orgasmic as heat was a sensation long forgotten to him and he was always so very cold. 

Ivan merely watched Mitchell gauging his reaction as he pushed a third finger inside of him. Though his eyes were black and his fangs revealed he remained composed standing over Mitchell like one of the Gods of old, cold and indifferent, existing on an entirely different plain than the vampire before him. Bringing his left hand up to his mouth, Ivan sank one fang into the pad of his thumb splitting the skin open before reaching towards Mitchell’s mouth, running his thumb across Mitchell’s pink lips smearing them crimson before pressing his thumb into the vampire’s mouth. 

Mitchell suckled like a babe at its mother’s breast while Ivan removed his fingers from his stretched hole and unzipped his own trousers freeing his hardened cock. He smeared his length with the remaining gel on his fingers as Mitchell refused to relinquish his grip on his left hand and then he stepped forward entering the vampire in one fluid hard thrust. 

Mitchell dropped Ivan’s hand as he was penetrated and his hands scrabbled along the desk looking for purchase as his legs were forced wider accommodating Ivan’s perverse pleasure to see him look debauched and spread open at his will. He managed to grip the edge of the desk above his head and he pushed back against Ivan with a challenging snarl, accepting what the elder vampire had to offer and daring him for more. 

Ivan smirked in response far too debonair and gentlemanly to succumb to such blatant wants, realising Mitchell was using him as a means to forget if only momentarily. He could understand, sympathise even to a certain extent because Mitchell did love to make life harder for himself by denying his very nature. A shark would not apologise for being a shark so they too should not be contrite for their position at the very top of the food chain. He pulls back and sinks back in sharply forcing Mitchell to hiss at the friction but instead of retaliation he simply grasps the desk tighter surrendering himself to whatever he had to offer. 

He covers Mitchell’s lips then and tastes his own blood on the vampire’s tongue as he rolls his hips exploiting the younger vampire’s unnatural surrender. He desired to drive Mitchell into a frenzy of sex and bloodlust where he was unable to sprout such nonsense about going dry and assimilating into society. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily watching Mitchell watching him before he grabs Mitchell’s hips and pulls him from the desk into his arms. He walks over to the filing cabinets and slams Mitchell’s back against one and presses Mitchell’s head against his neck encouraging him to drink as he fucks him mercilessly. 

Fangs pierce Ivan’s neck and he moans in pleasure before pressing his mouth against Mitchell’s pale throat and then sinking his teeth into the jugular vein. They fuck as they drink experiencing dual pleasure simultaneously and Ivan takes the opportunity to glide his right hand between them and take hold of Mitchell’s cock that is hard against his stomach. His other hand grips the filing cabinet while Mitchell holds himself in his arms by his legs wrapped around his waist and his back arched against the grey cabinet. 

Their proximity and the harsh pant of needless breath as well as the blood on his tongue and the cold tightness surrounding his prick is Ivan’s undoing and his thrusts falter as he releases his seed inside Mitchell and continues to ride out his orgasm with short stuttered jerks of his hips. Mitchell throws his arms around his neck and clings on desperately searching for his own completion which Ivan denies him by pulling out of his pliant body. 

“What?” Mitchell exclaims, perplexed as Ivan places him down and stares at his thighs coated with his seed. Before Mitchell can utter another word Ivan wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him back against him and takes him in hand as the younger vampire struggles.

“Drink,” Ivan whispers darkly into his ear and moves his arm, pressing his wrist against Mitchell’s lips as he sinks his fangs into Mitchell’s neck once more. Mitchell pushes the jacket and shirt sleeve down exposing more of Ivan’s wrist and sinks his teeth into the creamy cold skin as his hips thrust into Ivan’s sure grip. “I’ve missed the taste of you,” Ivan confesses pausing from his drinking to whisper sinfully to his former lover and then resumes drinking once more. 

Ivan jerks Mitchell’s cock with renewed vigour and enjoys the way his captive squirms in his arms. It was a heady experience having the legendary John Mitchell exposed and vulnerable at his mercy, solely relying on him to give him pleasure. He was honoured that Mitchell came to him with no pretences and such behaviour needed rewarding so he moved his hand lower caressing the drawn up and heavy sac and watches as Mitchell comes across the ghastly blue carpet with a stifled cry against his wrist. 

Moving his wrist away Ivan distances himself from the vampire king and notices with distaste the mess Mitchell had made with his blood. He pulls a handkerchief from his top pocket and wipes the blood from his wrist before righting his sleeve and jacket and then dabs away the blood that was undoubtedly coating his neck. 

Meanwhile Mitchell gathered his wits and pulled on his skinny jeans mindless of Ivan’s seed dampening his thighs and stepped into his boots once more. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked up the blood he found there before eyeing the Old One with trepidation. 

“We’ve come to an accord then?”

“I like a good reminisce as much as the next vampire but my mind is unchanged. I will be your poster boy but I will not be a dancing bear. Do as I say and not as I do, Mitchell that is my offer.” Mitchell glared through his dark curls at the Old One who stood aloof and unflustered in his form fitting suit belying all previous events. 

A house built on lies was as good as a house made of cards, flimsy and doomed but Ivan was a cornerstone of his empire so he had to sacrifice his beliefs and morality for the greater good. 

“Come with me, there’s something you need to see.”


End file.
